


red seeds, inkstained

by FuckingShame



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Body Horror, Come Inflation, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Double Penetration, Emetophilia, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Orgasm, Homophobia, Homophobic straight dude turned into a cockslut, Humiliation, Large Cock, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Other, Painful Sex, Rapists in Love, Soul Selling, Spitroasting, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Victim Blaming, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuckingShame/pseuds/FuckingShame
Summary: Most humans know better than to sign a contract in blood and ink just because it comes for free... but there are always drunk, stupid young men convinced that the world owes them something. That they can pay for a trick to steal what they deserve.When Tristan sells his soul for a charm to get laid, Sid offers him up to the Lord of Flesh for more sex than a mortal can take.
Relationships: Demon King/Loyal Incubus/Human Sacrifice
Comments: 30
Kudos: 314





	red seeds, inkstained

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).



> Hello! Yes this is a fill for a Nonconathon request from... 2019! "The Taste of Salt" was my official fill for chicago_ruth, but the other set of prompts were _so tasty_ that I could not let them go.
> 
> Since this is a fill outside the boundaries of the Nonconathon, I treated myself by adding a few self-indulgent kinks, but by and large my inspiration came from the original prompts. I hope this fic satisfies them. And you. All of you. <3

* * *

“I mean, come on— what d’you want? Sex, luck, power, I can do everything.”

“I’ve never seen a real charm artist offer that kind of shit. That’s a scam.”

Sid laughed and swigged his expensive beer. “I’m not a _registered_ charmer, bro. You think I want the government controlling me? I do the shit they won’t let you have. You want a charm or not? Name it.”

And two months of waiting and wheedling and pretending at friendship came to a close. Tristan’s pupils dilated so hard that Sid could see the surge of lust in that greedy, angry heart. “Sex.”

Sid’s tail practically curled. He permitted himself only a grin.

Ten minutes later, shirtless and straddling a chair backwards in the kitchen of his apartment, Tristan asked yet again, “For real though? If this shit doesn’t work I’ll kick your ass. And you’re gonna pay to have it removed.”

Sid snapped on a pair of sterile gloves even though giving Tristan a minor bacterial infection was literally the last thing he cared about. “Bro, chill. It works. Look at me. I do all my own work.”

The look Tristan gave his sleeves of twisting ink and rolling, sinewy muscle was four parts jealousy and one part furious repressed lust. It didn’t matter that Tristan was straight as a board and obnoxiously loud about it: everyone lusted over an incubus.

A lot of people lusted over Tristan, too. It was his personality that repelled them.

Fortunately, Anaxenon would never see that personality. The Lord of Flesh liked an exceptional body and a willing soul. With a little work, Sid could give him both.

“This’ll get me laid?”

“You’ll get all the sex you can handle,” Sid said smoothly. “Maybe more than that. Dick, pussy, whatever you—”

“I’m not a fucking faggot!” Tristan snarled, jerking up from the chair. “I don’t want dick. Is this gonna make me a fucking fag?”

“Okay, relax!” Sid held up his hands, inwardly cursing his big mouth. “It’s not gonna make you a fag. It’s just—”

“Do I look like a fag to you?”

As placating as he could be, Sid assured him, “Obviously not. But you know, some guys like fucking fags— you know, reeling ‘em in, getting them all turned on and begging for it… and then you fuck ‘em up the ass and teach ‘em a lesson. You never wanted to fuck up a homo?”

Tristan hesitated, the malicious little worm. He might not have thought of it before, but the violence and lust in his brain made short work of the idea. “I’m straight,” he finally asserted. “I just want this for pussy, okay?”

“Bro. I know you are. You’ll get pussy, trust me.”

Sid couldn’t—didn’t— promise _exclusively_ pussy. Tristan, fortunately, didn’t push for a clearer promise the way anyone with half a wit should have. Sid thanked the lower gods and told himself to stop toying with this one until the deal was done.

“Here,” Sid said, handing Tristan a glass of whiskey and putting the bottle on the table beside him. “You’re gonna want it.”

“I’m not a fucking bitch.” But he pounded it anyway. Big tough man. Behind him, Sid rolled his eyes.

Slightly bleary from the whiskey and all the beer before that— none of which he’d appreciated, the dumb fuck— Tristan eyed Sid’s case of tattoo equipment. “Fuck, that’s a lot of needles.”

“I do it the old-fashioned way,” Sid said, pleased, hovering over his selection of tools. Brass, gold, steel… no silver or iron, obviously. “There’s just no soul in a machine.”

He caught Tristan rolling his eyes over another swig of whiskey. Willing to put up with a prissy hipster artist in order to get a free charm, it seemed.

Piqued, Sid chose a bigger needle.

He settled behind Tristan on a chair of his own, needle and inkwell in hand. The broad expanse of Tristan’s muscular back was, sadly, already marred by a number of protective sigils. Several words for protection, a sign against possession… The faded blue writ on his nape suggested that mommy and daddy had shelled out for _bodily imperviousness_ practically at birth. That might have something to do with Tristan’s perfect sun-bronzed skin.

But there were so few these days who weren’t charmed. Karmegnon’s devils had really fucked everyone over during the last war: they’d taken advantage of the desperate and made so many blatant deals in the trenches that practically every soldier who’d lived to come home had come with protection sigils from four cultures scrawled in ink all over. Nowadays even the most conservative faithful had charms tattooed on, and those who refused tattoos had a holy symbol, ten prayers, and twenty arguments ready to go at the slightest offer of a deal in casual conversation.

But there were always drunk, stupid young men convinced that the world owed them something, that they were being denied what they deserved, who thought they could buy all they desired. And all the charms in the world couldn’t protect a man who consented to a contract signed in blood and ink.

Anaxenon would take care of removing the other ink. Soon Tristan would be more naked than he’d been since birth.

Humming over that pleasant thought, Sid settled in to work.

Sid could have tattooed Anaxenon’s sigil blindfolded and bathing in holy water. His own sign was scarcely more familiar. He only needed one name to create the contract, of course, but tattooing both onto Tristan was about the gesture. The fealty. _This was mine, lord, and now is yours. The pleasure which could have been mine is for you_.

If Sid was lucky, Anaxenon would let him enjoy Tristan too. That was no small reward. Anaxenon’s games weren’t precisely Sid’s style… but, well, sometimes a hole was a hole. He could take his pleasure from a drooling, begging cockslut and know in his own mind that Tristan would have hated every second.

As the curl of anticipation in his loins grew, Sid let his aura grow stronger and stronger. By then his venom was kicking in too: it was laced through the ink now tattooed halfway down Tristan’s spine. He pricked the needle slower and deeper, let the air grow sultry, and listened to Tristan’s breathing rasp with pain and lust.

He wondered if Tristan’s cock was hard. If his skin felt tight and ripe and strange.

“Fuck,” Tristan mumbled, swallowing. A bead of sweat trickled down his lats. He sounded half drunk, half stupored with need that he didn’t dare show in front of another man.

Sid placed the final pinpricks of ink. The contract glistened all the way up Tristan’s spine, lurid black on swollen red skin. Its sigils fairly swam in the trickling of blood and sweat and scarlet power.

Hot lust pierced through Sid like a knife, raw and real and too long denied. At last he arched his back and let his tail stretch out, uncurling from its hidden twist. His bones and loins ached in relief.

“Done,” he rasped.

Dripping venom, the scorpion stinger of his tail arced forward over his shoulder. Before Tristan could move, it pierced deep into the nape of his neck— the skin, the muscle, the nerves between those delicate spinal bones.

“ _Ngahhhhhh!_ ”

A single scream was all Tristan could manage before the venom shot in deep. His body jerked hard against the back of the chair. Sid grabbed him by the hair and held his chin down to keep the vertebrae parted. His stinger sank deeper.

Panting, he unloaded another pulse of venom— then another— another… It had been so long and he was so burstingly full. And the more Tristan took, the sweeter he’d be.

Finally, shaking, Sid withdrew his stinger. The wound it left was no more than a pinprick beading over with milky white venom.

Tristan lay limp over the back of the chair, trembling violently and gasping for breath. Bold now that the contract was sealed, Sid reached around for Tristan’s cock and found a hot spreading stain at the front of his jeans. He squeezed mockingly.

He rose and walked around in front of Tristan. The man’s eyes were fluttering, rolling up as he struggled to focus and react.

He tapped a single finger between Tristan’s eyes and ordered, “ _ **Sleep**_.”

They slid shut. Tristan went limp.

Sighing with satisfaction, Sid shook his wings out. They too felt cramped, though not in a physical sense. He poured himself a finger of whiskey and sipped it, feeling freed at last from the boorish persona he had worn to tolerate and ensnare Tristan. Then he pulled his chair around in front of Tristan, sat neatly, and readied himself to lay the first set of commands.

“ _ **Listen**_. Tristan. Tristan, can you hear me? You’re asleep, but you can hear. You won’t remember these words, but you’ll know that they’re true.”

Blue eyes clouded over with white fog slid halfway open.

Mind control was the great gift of the incubus-kin. It was a pity Sid took no joy in it. He liked his prey screaming, not compliant and sweet. But this was a gift for Anaxenon, and his lord’s pleasures came first.

“ _ **Páthos**._ You lust for cock, Tristan. You long for its taste and its heat and its girth. The thought of it makes you uncontrollably horny. You’ll do anything to be allowed to touch a cock, to lick it, to suck it…”

* * *

Unconscious and naked, Tristan was one hundred and ninety pounds of muscle. Sid resettled the body over his shoulder and waded through the silty mud of Salluru’s demesne. He could have laid his portal closer, but even with a friend it was polite not to encroach.

At last the black cavern of Salluru’s home hove into view through the gloom. It loomed alone on the endless midnight floodplain.

“Hallo,” Sid called. “Salluru! I’ve brought that toy I mentioned.”

Mud bubbled within. Sid waded into the cave, grinning with anticipation. Tristan’s soul had already been bound to Anaxenon, and soon his body too would be handed over, relinquished entirely to the control of the Lord Shaper. But first Sid had to prepare that body, and this little diversion he intended to _enjoy_.

Salluru burbled inquisitively at his burden. Sid let it slide several tentacles over Tristan’s limp form.

“I appreciate the favor,” he said, as Salluru lifted Tristan from his arms. Thicker, stronger tentacles rose from the pool of thin mud to support that beefy body. “Humans are such filthy creatures. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Do you mind if he struggles?”

Mocking the idea, Salluru cinched several more limbs around Tristan. They could easily have strangled an elephant.

Sid chuckled. “ _ **Wake**_. And _**remember**_.”

Tristan’s eyes fluttered open as the white fog peeled back. At first he was sluggish, unfocused and slack. Then piece by piece the sensations trickled in ( _splashing, slurping, bonds circling his limbs, a slippery touch_ ) and all at once he jerked violently awake.

“ _What the fuck is this_?”

His scream echoed around the cave. Salluru and Sid laughed. Woken from every compulsion Sid had layered into his brain, Tristan fought for his life.

“What the fuck— what the fuck, let go— fuck— _help_! HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP!”

The timbre of his screaming was ecstasy to Sid. Every bit as delicious as he’d imagined.

Salluru lifted Tristan higher into the air, directly above the center of its dark pool. Tristan stared down into the nest of writhing tentacles and screamed even louder.

“HELP! _HELP!_ This isn’t real, this can’t be real— come on, fuck, stop, it can’t— SOMEBODY HELP!”

Sid’s laughter rang out loud enough that Tristan noticed him through the gloom.

“SID! Sid, help me! Get me out!”

Sid spread his hands mockingly wide. “No,” he said, showing his teeth in a smile. “I’ve waited so long to see you like this.”

Despite all of Tristan’s furious struggling, Salluru stretched his arms and legs wide apart. Then Salluru’s laying tentacles oozed up from the mud, which beaded off their hyperslick surfaces. Both were a more vulnerable white than the rest of Salluru’s form, and lurid pink veins pulsed in the pale flesh. They were smooth and relatively slender, each with a wider ovoid head.

“Sid, what the fuck! Stop! Let me go! Sid— please— bro, please help, you gotta get me out, bro, please— god, fuck—”

Tristan was starting to cry. He knew what was happening even if he didn’t want to accept it. He had no memory of getting here— nothing beyond getting a tattoo at home— but there was no way to misunderstand the slick tentacle writhing up his thigh.

“ _Please_ ,” Tristan sobbed, trying to close his legs. Salluru splayed them wider until tendons strained in those beefy inner thighs. “Don’t, please don’t. I can’t— I don’t want— please don’t, please, no, I don’t wanna— _pleeeease_ … Sid…”

How must this look to Tristan? They were in the dark, in a cave, with a beast, and Sid simply stood at the edge of the pool and watched, arms crossed and smiling. Sid’s shoes weren’t even muddy. Tristan was naked and bound and Sid stood there and smiled and his teeth were fangs and oh god he had _wings_.

“No… oh my god, no, fuck, no, oh god… No! _No!_ ”

Salluru’s first laying tentacle coiled around Tristan’s dangling cock and back between his legs. The slick pink-veined head drooled slime across his asshole.

From below, Sid drank in every second of screaming and fear as the tentacle forced its way through that tight clenching anus and slowly slid deeper and deeper within.

“STOP! STOOOOOP! FUCK! IT HURTS!”

Five inches in, the tentacle paused. It retreated a moment, then with a push and a twist forced its way past the bend of his colon and deeper into his guts.

Eyes bulging, Tristan gave a terrible scream. “ _AAAHHHHH_!”

Unable to help himself, Sid shook off the last of his false form. Clothing and hair fell in shreds at his feet, leaving him naked and lavender-skinned and wet between the legs.

His cocks had begun to unsheathe: both heads poked out like sensitive pearls, stretching his slit around their thickening girths. As inch after inch of tentacle writhed into Tristan’s guts, Sid slipped a hand between his legs and feverishly polished his palm over his cockheads. He pushed them back slightly into his wet sheath. The stretching burn only increased his arousal, which hardened his cocks, which tightened his sheath yet further. He moaned.

“ _Stop_! Make them stop! Please— fuck— stop— stop—”

Tristan’s belly bulged as the tentacle slid around the corner of his large intestine. His face was scarlet with strain.

“Stooop— uhhh— uhhh, uhhh, _uhhh_ — _stop_ —”

“Or what?” Sid asked pleasantly, aroused beyond compare. “Sallu, pause a moment.”

Salluru grumbled but the bulge retreated down Tristan’s guts. Tristan convulsed with a dry retch of visceral horror.

“Anything!” he wept, tears and snot clogging his voice. “Anything— Sid… Please. You want… you want to fuck me? I’ll suck you off, I’ll let you fuck me… oh god, anything. Please. Not this any more. Not this. Make it stop. Please… make it stop…”

Sid curled a finger and Salluru obligingly dangled Tristan closer. Whimpering, Tristan strained for him as if this grinning lavender incubus— the devil he halfway knew— could save him.

“I’ll fuck you any way,” Sid whispered, fangs bared with delight. “You’ll get all the sex you can take. And then some. Just like I said. What I _want_ … right now… is to watch you _writhe_.”

Salluru jerked Tristan back and thrust its tentacle back in, forcing a sharp scream from him. Brusque with impatience, Salluru worked in deeper. Another laying tentacle arced up near Tristan’s head.

“Sorry,” said Sid. “Didn’t mean to delay.”

The ringing shrieks of distress choked off as Salluru’s other laying tentacle thrust into Tristan’s mouth. He gagged noisily for a moment before, with a forcible push, it popped down the back of his throat. Tristan’s head was shoved back by the strength of the tentacle forcing its way down his esophagus. His eyes bulged and spit spattered everywhere. His choking heaves did nothing to dislodge the slimy ovoid head pushing deeper down his narrow throat.

Both of Sid’s cocks slid out in a rush of arousal. Groaning, he thrust two fingers between them and into his sheath, stretching it for pleasurable pain.

Salluru’s gurgling moan of orgasm filled the cave’s darkened halls. Its laying tentacles rippled as fluid gushed through them and deep into Tristan.

Within moments the man’s stomach began to balloon. Fluid gushed down his throat and directly into his stomach, filling him faster than anything ever had. He struggled and jerked, gagging on both tentacle and fluid as his stomach backed up.

It flooded up his esophagus and out any way it could: in spatters from the corners of his stretched lips and in thick bubbling streams from both of his nostrils.

The tentacle up his ass was the same. Buried even deeper in his guts, it had more space to fill. Tristan’s abdomen bloated as his intestines were pumped full of wave after wave of thick slime. Then the remainder of Salluru’s obscene orgasm flooded out around the tentacle impaling his hole, pouring down into the churning black pool.

Shuddering, Salluru fucked its tentacles in and out, working through the final pulses of pleasure. Tristan spasmed in its grasp, every muscle straining with agony. Then Salluru slowly withdrew, the flared ovoid heads of its laying tentacles marked as distinct bulges in Tristan’s throat and belly.

Tristan retched up a stream of fluid as soon as the tentacle popped out of his throat. White seed fountained down his chin.

“Cheers,” said Sid appreciatively. “That looked like fun. You got him first, you know?”

Moving more slowly now, Salluru tipped Tristan horizontal. The human needed no help retching several more times. His body convulsed; his mouth and asshole strained open. Seed flooded from Tristan’s guts. Sid grinned at the humiliation of each ersatz ejaculation.

When Tristan’s distressed heaving weakened, Salluru wrapped a tentacle around his middle and squeezed until Tristan vomited another gush of fluid.

“ _Noooo_ ,” Tristan bawled, slime dripping from his mouth and nostrils, “nooo, no, no… no more… _nooooo_ …”

That didn’t stop Salluru from slipping a tentacle back into Tristan’s asshole and thrusting up into his guts a few times to force out the fluid still bloating his upper intestines. Tristan screamed and strained to eject the tentacle, emptying out a final torrent of slime around the writhing shaft.

Sid nodded. “Nice and clean.”

Salluru grumbled and offered Tristan back. The big muscular human was a sobbing, quivering wreck.

With some reluctance, Sid reached out and tapped him between the eyes. “ _ **Forget**_. And _**sleep**_.”

Tristan’s pretty blue eyes rolled back.

His cock dangled between his legs, still partly erect. With so much of an incubus’ venom in him, a victim couldn’t help but feel every touch, no matter how vile, as pleasure. Somewhere in that horrific violation, Tristan had felt himself getting hard.

Sid gave that thick cock a mocking stroke and slung Tristan over his shoulder.

Salluru moaned and sank back into its pool, more agitated than satiated. As it rolled over, Sid glimpsed a translucent green sac bulging with thick white eggs and winced. Having worked itself up into orgasm but not laid its eggs, Salluru would be in considerable pain. If Sid couldn’t find another victim to offer Salluru soon, he’d have to take the clutch himself.

“I will repay the promised favor with all speed,” he said formally, bowed, and backed out of the cave.

The endless floodplain outside surged with Salluru’s distress. Sid waded through the waters far enough that he could politely sketch a portal and step through.

* * *

The Halls of High Baxora breathed and throbbed like the living flesh they were. Sid inhaled the heady scent of his lord’s demesne and couldn’t help but relax at the effervescent wave of pleasure that fizzed through him.

The power of the Lord Shaper Anaxenon was everywhere around him. Halls arced off like vessels from a heart, pulsing with soft red light through translucent flesh. The floor underfoot was firm but yielding, as smooth and velvety soft as a horse’s muzzle. Throughout the halls and chambers, ossified ribs twisted into erotic arches that held up the ceiling, or into pillars that held captive a menagerie of panting creatures impaled and enraptured on the bone. Everything lived, breathed, and obeyed.

A hook caught in Sid’s heart and pulled.

Helpless but to obey— not that he wanted to do anything else— he followed the command. Embarrassingly, his stinger dripped with venom: that was how ready he was. As he passed one of the slaves mounted squirming on a bone spur that arched from the wall, Sid struck out and pumped some venom into its breast. The slave screamed, convulsed and squirted around the spur it straddled. Cum dribbled down its legs as they spasmed in midair.

When he reached Anaxenon’s den, Sid could still hear the slave moaning orgasmically down the hall. Anaxenon, lounging across his throne, was chuckling.

Refusing to be abashed that he had amused Anaxenon, Sid curled his tail and offered a smirk. Then he sank to his knees, laying Tristan’s body out before him.

Anaxenon let him kneel— because he _must_ kneel, of course, but perhaps also because he knew how it stoked Sid’s arousal. When Anaxenon smiled and crooked a finger, Sid went to him on hands and knees.

The Lord of Flesh was huge and muscular and obscene: these things he _always_ was. He was currently crimson and mostly masculine, all ten feet of him lounged out on the mound of his warm organic throne. A soft horse’s cock lay along his thigh and one taloned thumb traced contemplative circles around a large swollen nipple. When he pressed in, the nipple accepted his thumb and sucked like a mouth, then became a nipple once more.

“Hail, lord,” purred Sid, never so pleased to do anything as to slink all the way to his belly with his knees spread wide and press his lips to Anaxenon’s foot. Because he was allowed— _he_ was allowed— he kissed his way up the ankle and calf, raising his eyes to his lord once he came as high as the knee.

Anaxenon smiled and caught Sid’s chin with enormous fingers. Sid nearly melted at the touch. He could smell his own hot aura. It had been so _long_.

“Kurzidigish. My pretty one. You’ve brought in something new.”

Sid flushed at the sound of his name. “A gift,” he managed. “A tribute. I thought you’d like this one.”

The last came out strangely plaintive, which brought on another rush of embarrassment.

Anaxenon laughed. Light gleamed off his great smooth body. Sid turned his chin and pressed his mouth to Anaxenon’s knee to hide his eyes.

“And what about your body? Is that not also for me?”

“My body is _always_ your tribute,” Sid protested, even as he knew he was being teased. Anaxenon was a generous lord. “This one is nearly as pretty. And he makes such lovely noise.”

Anaxenon’s thumb stroked Sid’s cheek. The talon’s needle-fine scrape made him shiver deliciously. “And he’s pleasant to fuck? Tight, I assume, but all mortals are.” He stroked his massive cock with a laugh.

“I’ve never fucked him. He’s yours, lord.”

“Kurzidigish.” Anaxenon lifted his chin and Sid squirmed under that liquid purple gaze. “You, my hungriest incubus? My needy, greedy creature? _You_ haven’t fed.”

“He’s _yours_. If I only see him writhe on your cock, I’ll be satisfied.”

Anaxenon’s delighted smile revealed sharp fangs. “You’d be frustrated and desperate,” he corrected. “But you’d endure the denial if I asked it, wouldn’t you. Never fear. I’ll let you use him too.”

Sid gave an involuntary shudder so hard that it made his spine arch.

“Wake him up for me, lovely.”

They turned their eyes to Tristan’s unconscious form.

“ _ **Wake**_.”

Tristan roused groggily. He moved like a doped bull, all his impressive muscle deliciously weak and uncoordinated. Anaxenon and Sid stared, ready to eat him alive.

“The fuck…?”

“Welcome,” Anaxenon drawled, stretching back on his throne and propping his chin on one hand.

Tristan wobbled to his hands and knees, then his feet. He clearly couldn’t comprehend the warm, fleshy red of his surroundings. Again, the last thing he remembered was a tattoo in his kitchen… but now he hurt all over and every nerve tingled.

“What the fuck? The fuck is this?”

“ _ **Hēdús**_ ,” Sid chided, before Tristan could embarrass him in front of Anaxenon: _sweet_. Tristan’s rising flush of anger immediately receded to mere distress. Rage and violence became impossible as a muted, biddable docility overtook his mind. White fog clouded his eyes.

Damn. Sid should have realized that commanding Tristan to _remember_ in Salluru’s cave would lift all the buried triggers he had previously activated.

...Oh well. He could take a moment more to toy with the man before handing him over to Anaxenon (who still watched patiently, stroking one finger into a mouth that panted in the arm of his fleshy throne).

“...Sid?” Tristan’s eyes darted around, dancing anxiously over Anaxenon and the orgiastic vault of flesh and bone and captive slaves on display, yet Tristan merely stood there looking paralyzed with anxiety. Gods, when the man wasn’t driven by anger or greed he really was useless. “Bro, what’s going on?”

“You made a deal, Tristan,” Sid purred, getting to his feet. He sauntered over, watching Tristan struggle to take in the familiarity of Sid’s face and voice beneath alien lavender skin, wings, and curling tail. Tristan’s eyes kept bouncing back to the two erect cocks bobbing between Sid’s legs.

“No,” Tristan said dumbly.

“Yes. A charm to get you sex. You’ve got it, Tristan. You belong to the Lord Shaper Anaxenon and you’ll get nothing _but_ sex. You’re now nothing but flesh to be fucked.”

“No,” said Tristan more desperately. His breathing increased. “No, I’m straight, I don’t want— bro…”

“You want it, though. You want it so bad.”

“No…”

“Yes. You belong to me now,” Anaxenon said from behind them. “I can feel my name in your skin.”

“ _No—_ ”

“Come here and let me see you, _**pet**_.”

“—ohhh!”

Tristan’s knees buckled at the wave of physical lust that wracked him. Quivering on all fours, he wheezed for breath. It all flooded back: the arousal, the hunger, the overwhelming need to see and touch and taste cock. And more yet: desire to serve the one who had called to him. Anaxenon.

How could Tristan have forgotten? He _lived_ for this.

In the time it took Tristan to sit up on his knees at Sid’s feet, his cock went from half hard to rampantly erect. Tristan grabbed it without thinking and moaned. Staring in starstruck lust at Anaxenon’s obscene beauty, he mindlessly humped his hand. All fear and shame was gone, replaced by slavish lust. Anaxenon looked surprised and pleased at the sudden change.

 _Pet_. Anaxenon’s favourite word for his slaves. Of course Sid had known that Anaxenon would trigger Tristan with it.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Sid said, just to be cruel. Tristan moaned but obeyed, compliant with every command. His hips continued to hump the air with that jutting, neglected cock as he began to crawl toward Anaxenon.

“Oh god… bro… sir, I want you, I need— sir—”

“Lord,” Sid corrected.

“ _Lord_. Lord, please, I want you. Let me serve you, let me touch, please, I need…”

Anaxenon waited until Tristan was nearly there, his hand reaching out for Anaxenon’s thigh, before he ordered, “Don’t touch me.”

Tristan whined miserably and collapsed to the floor. His eyes remained fixed on Anaxenon as he grovelled, begging for approval. Unable to touch but driven desperately to _serve_ , and aroused to the point of incoherence, he did the only thing he could: display himself on the floor with every sluttish enticement that his brain could imagine.

As Sid strolled up, Tristan rolled onto his back and writhed before Anaxenon, trying to flex every inch of his brawn. He braced his feet on the floor and rolled his hips in the air, flexing his muscular core and— not unintentionally— drawing attention to his upright cock. Sid could see the warring struggle between Tristan’s need to cum and his need to please Anaxenon.

“Yes,” Anaxenon mused, watching Tristan writhe, “this one _is_ pretty.” He smiled and crooked his finger at Sid. “Come sit with me, darling.”

All but purring, Sid crawled onto the throne and curled up against Anaxenon’s side. Tristan made a noise of denied agony.

Anaxenon caught Sid’s chin and turned him for a kiss. Sid melted into it, mouth opening so that Anaxenon could tonguefuck him. It had been so long since Sid had kissed another infernal— since he had been able to wear his true shape, even— and he’d forgotten how _good_ it was to wrap his long, long tongue around another. Their tongues coiled together for a while until Anaxenon’s tongue pushed in deep enough to tickle Sid’s throat, then slipped down. Sid shuddered and swallowed hard around it until Anaxenon finally withdrew, leaving him shivering with pleasure.

“How you love to suck on things,” Anaxenon mused. “I always wonder if I should alter your mouth a little… give you some true pleasure out of it.”

Sid licked saliva from his lips. It took the Lord Shaper considerable energy to mould the flesh of mortals, though the more he poured into them over time the more malleable they became. The Halls of High Baxora were a testament to the vastness of Anaxenon’s power. It took even more energy to mould an infernal’s form, and such changes never lasted. The gift of Anaxenon’s attention and power would be a _rare_ treat.

“I would be honored.”

Anaxenon squeezed his ass. “Perhaps after we see about this one.”

They looked down on Tristan, still grovelling on the floor.

Whimpering, Tristan ran his hands over his body: scratching and stroking, teasing and pinching his nipples, squeezing his massive pectorals. He was clearly testing: did Anaxenon want to see pleasure or pain? Virility or emasculation? His fingers stroked as far down as the bulging V of muscle that pointed to his straining cock before he shied away, unable to pursue what Sid had forbidden him to touch no matter how desperately he wanted it.

“Is he still dirty inside?” Anaxenon asked, showing rare distaste. Although he much resembled a human and worked exclusively in human muscle and bone, he had no taste for the filthy minutiae of mortal life, the eating and drinking and excreting. Many infernals didn’t. The tolerance of incubi was a habit of long exposure.

“Of course not,” promised Sid. “I readied him for you. He should even still be slick.”

Anaxenon’s massive horsecock twitched against his thigh. At the sight of it, Tristan opened his mouth and begged with his tongue until drool ran down his chin.

Generously, Anaxenon finally said, “Come and suck me.”

In a flash Tristan knelt between his legs. He took Anaxenon’s cock in both hands and opened wide, and still was barely able to fit the flared head into his mouth. His lips stretched painfully around the thick shaft. With only the head in he was already choking on it.

Without thinking, Sid snapped, “Hands _off_ ,” and only after heard the jealousy in his voice.

He flushed and waited for rebuke but Anaxenon only chuckled. Tristan shoved his hands behind his back and tried to force himself down farther, to no avail. His throat would not admit the massive cockhead.

Tristan withdrew. “Please, lord,” he choked, then ran his mouth up and down the shaft to spread his drool. “I’m sorry, thank you for letting me suck it, oh, god, yes— thank you…”

“No, no,” Anaxenon chided. “Swallow it. All of it.”

Tristan whimpered and took the head back in his mouth.

Anaxenon grunted and lifted his hips. The pressure lifted Tristan’s head and made him gag noisily. Then Anaxenon’s cock changed: it grew narrower and more flexible. The swollen medial ring vanished. In a moment Tristan was sucking the spiral end of a pig’s long, slender cock.

“Swallow.”

“Yesh lor!”

After a long, noisy struggle— his slavish devotion warring against his complete inexperience in sucking cock— Tristan’s throat finally opened. The corkscrew tip slid in. Tristan gagged convulsively but continued forcing his own head onto it. Drool spattered from his lips. As he slid down an inch at a time, he grunted and choked like a pig himself, unable to stop the rebellion of his gag reflex but fighting through the mortal instinct.

Sid found the human gag reflex fascinating. Incubi had no such difficulty because they had no anatomical need to prevent choking; their bodies were merely human shaped. Sid was made for sex. To his delight, humans seemed made to be _tortured_ with sex.

Part way down, Tristan’s eyes bulged— and Sid, knowing human anatomy, recognized that Anaxenon’s monstrously long cock was lodged all the way down Tristan’s esophagus. Anaxenon lifted his hips again. Tristan convulsed.

Driven by brainless, slavish compulsion, Tristan forced Anaxenon’s cock past the sphincter of his stomach and swallowed it down. Twelve inches. Fourteen. Tristan heaved and the slimy white remnants of Salluru’s seed gushed up around Anaxenon’s cock, but Tristan continued to take it.

Mouth open, tongue stretched out, retching drool from his mouth and nose, Tristan impaled himself onto the long slender pig cock until he reached the base. His tongue writhed against Anaxenon’s heavy balls.

“Now stay,” Anaxenon rumbled, patting Tristan’s head. “Just keep it warm until I decide to do something with you.”

Tristan’s eyes welled up and overflowed, tears joining the slime trickling from his nostrils and lips. There was strain and desperation in his eyes. His lungs would be burning, his brain screaming for air. And yet he stayed, mindlessly willing to strangle on Anaxenon’s cock until it killed him.

He didn’t yet know that he was beyond the reach of death. Nothing could kill a soul bound by contract and taken to an infernal realm. But the mortal instincts remained— breathing, gag reflex, hunger— and would until Anaxenon had broken either Tristan’s body or mind.

“Now tell me,” Anaxenon said, cupping Sid’s ass to lift him closer, “exactly what you’ve done to this pretty toy.”

Sid touched a toe between Tristan’s begging eyes and ordered, “ _ **Don’t listen**_.” Immediately the man’s brain processed nothing but meaningless noise. Still, Sid nestled in so that his mouth was very near Anaxenon’s ear.

“Only what I always do, lord. I make them yearn for you. Make them sweet and obedient. A tribute should perform properly.”

Anaxenon’s talons pinched one of Sid’s nipples. “I know you leave hooks in them, but I’m asking exactly where. Tell me the _words_ , Kurzidigish.”

Sid flushed. Anaxenon continued to pincer his nipple between sharp nails.

“ _ **Hēdús**_ ,” he managed. “To make him meek and docile, without temper. Sweet.”

“Mhm…”

“ _ **Lagneíā**_ to make him aroused. Uncontrollably, beyond endurance. He’d do anything for release. Lord, he’s as good as the others… If you want a tribute who desires you naturally, I can do that. I can go find—”

Anaxenon pinched until Sid cried out. “I didn’t ask for another. I asked for the words.”

“ _ **Páthos**_ to make him lust for cock,” Sid blurted. “He’s already a slut for cunt. And _**doûlos**_ to make him servile. Obedient, submissive— he wants nothing more in the world than to please you. And… _**pet**_ …” Sid whined as Anaxenon twisted his nipple farther. “ _ **Pet**_ triggers all of them at once. It makes him your own. Completely.”

“I see.”

“The rest is the same as ever. You can make him wake and sleep with a word. If… if you want, I can give him other triggers… I can make him think he’s a woman, or a dog, or… he’d become frantic to have his body changed if you wanted to make him beg for it. Or— o- _oh_!”

Anaxenon twisted his nipple and Sid squirmed in pain. He threw a desperate glance at Tristan, who was jerking back and forth on the last inch of Anaxenon’s cock, struggling to hold himself fully impaled as he gagged continually. Slime dribbled down his chin to Anaxenon’s heavy balls. They were both of them bound and dancing at Anaxenon’s whim.

“Or?”

“Mmmh… Or if you do something that gets a good effect on him— something new— and you want to do it again for the first time… you can call me and I can wipe his memory. You know how…”

“Back to the last time he slept, yes.”

At last he released Sid’s tormented nipple. Sid panted through the frisson of hot pain fading into pleasure.

“My pretty thing,” Anaxenon rumbled, allaying Sid’s fears that he was displeased. “My cleverest creature. So good at slicing into souls and arranging them just so. You know what I like.”

“Yes. Yes, lord. He’s for you.”

“You like them differently, though.”

“Ah?”

“You like to make them suffer. Without the words and games. All the power in the world to make them love it, and you like it when they cry.”

“I— yes, but I don’t mind— I adore anything you’ll have me do. He’s not meant for me.”

“He could be,” Anaxenon said. “Perhaps… this time we’ll do one your way.”

Sid stared.

“Yes?”

“ _Yes_ , lord. If you want— if you would—”

Anaxenon pinched his thigh this time, interrupting Sid’s stammering though it clearly pleased him. “Yes. I think we’ll take this one apart. See what it takes to make him cry.”

Still deaf and gagging around the root of Anaxenon’s cock, Tristan gave a particular choke. Slime gushed from his nostrils. His eyes had rolled up and his face was scarlet with strain.

“Go on,” Anaxenon urged, his voice a little taut with pleasure. “Let’s start over. Show me how you like to play, Kurzidigish.”

Overwhelmed, Sid leaned in and kissed Anaxenon. Anaxenon rumbled and let Sid tonguefuck his mouth passionately for a long time while Tristan, half-forgotten, gurgled and twitched on his cock.

Then Sid drew back and stared down at the cock-choked human, hardly able to believe it. He would get to fuck Tristan together with Anaxenon. And not only that, he would get to make the dumb, greedy bastard _suffer_.

Sid tapped a spark of power into Tristan’s brain. “ _ **Listen**_. And _**sleep**_.”

Tristan’s body went slack. He slid limply backwards off Anaxenon’s cock. The corkscrew head of it squelched out of his throat and he collapsed.

“Listen,” Sid repeated, climbing off Anaxenon’s throne to crouch over Tristan. “ _ **Forget**_ what just happened. Forget all the words. We’ve just had a night of drinking in your home, and you got a tattoo. The pain, the booze— it turned you on. _**Lagneíā**_. You got hard. And I saw. Remember that you tried to tell me that it was nothing, you were straight, but your big fat hard cock gave you away. You were so horny and drunk that you agreed to anything if I’d just suck your cock, you slut. And here you are, Tristan.”

He slid down Tristan’s prone body, kissing his bulging abs and the strap of muscle along his hip bone. His stinger arched over his shoulder and stabbed deep into Tristan’s muscular thigh, injecting another dose of venom. Tristan’s unconscious body arched in reaction, his untouched cock jerking and spurting pre-cum.

Sid panted in anticipation. “ _ **Wake**_.”

Tristan’s eyelids fluttered, then clenched closed. He grunted and squirmed. “Fucking suck it, faggot,” he muttered. “Stop kissing me like a fucking girl.”

Cruelly amused, Sid put his lips around the head of Tristan’s cock and suckled gently. His tongue teased the slit. Salty pre-cum dribbled into his mouth.

“ _OH,_ fuck! Suck it!”

Sid released Tristan’s cock. “For a straight guy you sure want my mouth pretty bad.”

Tristan clenched his eyes tighter shut. His cock throbbed in Sid’s grip. “Don’t _talk_. Just, c’mon, suck it, don’t pretend you don’t want it.”

“But I want you to be polite about it.”

Arousal warred with homophobia in Tristan’s tiny mean brain. Sid gave his shaft a luscious stroke slicked with pre-cum and spit.

“Bro,” Tristan gritted out. “Quit fucking with me. I just need… c’mon man, just…”

Sid licked his cockhead and flicked his eyes over to share an amused look with Anaxenon, who was idly stroking his own erection. “Say please.”

Tristan grabbed for Sid’s hair and found nothing: a smooth bald scalp and then the ridge of a horn. He jerked his eyes open and sat partway up.

His long purple tongue still extended to tickle Tristan’s slit, Sid bared his fangs in a grin. His tail swayed behind him. “Say please, you absolute slut.”

Tristan had locked up in dumb horror. His mouth dropped open. “The fuck…?” His stare tracked the room until it found Anaxenon on his throne. He jolted violently under Sid’s palm, which held his hips in place. “What the _fuck_? Get the fuck off me! The fuck is this?”

“What, Tristan,” Sid mocked, “don’t you still want your dick sucked?”

It was rock hard, kicking gently in Sid’s hand. Venom pulsed through Tristan’s veins. Even when confused and terrified, his arousal could not be derailed.

“What the fuck is— _hey_!” Hands had grown up through the fleshy floor to grab Tristan’s wrists and elbows, then his ankles when he began to kick in panic. Anaxenon twitched his finger and a dozen bodiless hands dragged Tristan flat to the floor, holding him immobile. A few crawled up over his chest, groping for his muscles and nipples. “Sid! Sid, what the fuck!”

“Don’t you know any other words?” Sid demanded. “You’re so _boring_. What the fuck, faggot, bro. You asked for this, Tristan. You said you’d do anything if I sucked your dick. Well, here you are. And I did suck it, you ungrateful ass. Was it worth it?”

Tristan looked as horrified by that as by the rest of his predicament. “But I’m not done!”

“You didn’t say for how long. Now I guess I get to do whatever I want to you.”

“No! No, Sid—” He started sounding close to tears. “Bro, I don’t even know what’s happening, please. I just— you gotta—”

“I don’t have to do anything.” Sid crawled on top of Tristan, combed his hand through Tristan’s hair and pulled his head back. “You don’t remember? You make bad deals, Tristan. This is your fault. You asked for this.”

Tristan squirmed in frustration, uncomfortable and unable to rub his cock against something. “I didn’t. I don’t— I just need— fuck, it _hurts_. I didn’t ask for this!”

“You’re right, Kurzidigish,” Anaxenon said. “Everything he says is a bore. Are you going to use that mouth for something better?”

“Good idea. He’ll probably be terrible at sucking cock, but I’ve got two. He can get lots of practice at choking on dick like the slut he is.”

“No!” Tristan screamed. He writhed against the restraining hands as Sid crawled to straddle his head. “No, no please, Sid please, bro— please, I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t wanna— _stop_ , bro, stop, please, I’m not a fag, I’m not, I don’t wanna, I won’t—”

“You want me to hurt you instead? You want my cock up your ass?”

“ _NO!_ ”

“You’re rock hard, Tristan. Sure seems like you want this.” Sid reached back and flicked his rampant erection. “Look at this slut, lord. See how he begs for cock. We should give it to him.”

“Do it.”

“No, no _please_ , I don’t— let go of me! Let go! I don’t— _FUCK!_ ”

Sid’s tail had wrapped around the base of his cock and squeezed. Tristan arched violently up into it.

“Oh god, fuck, it hurts. Sid it hurts so bad, I can’t— I can’t, I need, I just gotta— you gotta, please…”

“Gotta what?”

“Let me cum,” Tristan gasped. He turned his grimacing face away from Sid’s cocks, which bobbed over his lips. “Let me go, let me cum, I gotta…”

“Then you admit it. You like this.”

“No… I just want… I don’t know what’s happening, I’m not gay, I just…”

He was starting to hyperventilate. Sid’s tail gave a squeeze.

“You want to cum, slut?”

Tristan groaned like he was dying. “ _Fuck_. _Please_.”

“Then you need to do two things for me. First, you need to admit you’re a slut. Say it.”

“I’m not a fag.”

Sid grabbed his face, squishing in his cheeks stupidly, and rubbed his cocks over Tristan’s grimacing lips. “I know. You’re a straight homophobic idiot who drools over cock. You hate it and you need it. _Say it_.”

Tristan let out a groan of anguish, humping the air involuntarily and then collapsing. Teeth clenched, he grunted, “’M a slut.”

“Louder!”

“ _I’m a slut!_ ”

Sid smiled. Tristan wasn’t crying yet. He was furious and terrified and desperate to cum. But they’d change that. Pry out the first stone in the wall and the rest would eventually come tumbling down.

“Second— suck my cock. In fact, suck both of us. Make both of us cum, Tristan, and _then_ you can get off.”

“Fuck you!”

Sid smiled and leaned back, sitting firmly on Tristan’s chest. His tail squeezed tight, then let go completely. Tristan’s cock jerked and dribbled another spurt of pre-cum.

“You can suffer, then. While I fuck you up the ass.”

He stood gracefully, leaving Tristan struggling furiously against the bondage of groping hands. The human spat and screamed obscenities that were, frankly, boring. Only his fear was of interest. And his raw, desperate arousal.

“Your power makes this most convenient, lord,” Sid said to Anaxenon. “I don’t suppose you could put him in position for me?”

“To mount like a bitch?”

“If you would.”

“You need only ask.”

And Sid _knew_ that was just part of the game they were playing with Tristan, but still something in his chest leapt.

The hands wrestled Tristan over onto his front. The fleshy floor bulged and then split open, punctured by struts of glistening bone. They pushed up under Tristan, forcing him into kneeling. In a matter of moments Tristan was kneeling over an ossified rape-rack, bound to it by clutching hands. His leaking cock dangled untouched in midair.

Sid glanced at Anaxenon, his tail curling with a flicker of anxiety. “Does this suit you, lord?”

Anaxenon smiled. “I’m intrigued to see where you take this. Go on and play. You’re both pretty enough to keep me watching.”

Flushing hot again, Sid slunk around and knelt behind Tristan. The man was gorgeous from behind. Tight ass, muscular back… and the raw shimmering contract tattoo that bound his soul.

Sid slid his lower cock across Tristan’s clenching pink asshole. Slickness smeared obscenely across the tight pucker. It wasn’t virgin, not since Salluru had cored him out… but virgin as far as Tristan remembered, which was just as good.

“No! No! No no no no no, you can’t, I don’t want it, I don’t— _fuck_ you, you fag, you fucking— _no_ , Sid, please, no _don’t_ —”

“Remember this is your fault,” Sid murmured in his ear, and slowly pushed in.

Tristan’s tight pucker spread open until the mushroomed head of Sid’s cock popped in. Salluru had left his hole swollen and as slick as a cunt, unable to resist the slide of thick shaft shoving in and in and in. It couldn’t have hurt _that_ badly, not with how slick his guts were. But the horror of being penetrated made Tristan _howl_. Tendons bulged in his neck. He strained against the rape-rack and screamed until Sid had skewered him completely, one cock balls deep in his ass and the other pressed between his muscular ass-cheeks.

“Stop! _Stoooop!_ Take it out! Take it out! _Fuck!_ ”

“Yeah,” Sid moaned, slowly pumping out and in again. Tristan’s agony was as arousing as his tight hot hole. “Oh, yeah, scream like that. Scream for me, you stupid, tiny-minded idiot. Scream, you slut. Like that.”

“No! No! Stop! It _hurts!_ ”

Sid shoved in as far as he could. Deep within Tristan’s body he felt some tight second sphincter squelch open, stretching for his cock. His cockhead nestled in that tight twist, deep in Tristan’s guts.

“ _GAHHHHHH! AHHHH! FUCK! STOP!_ ”

Anaxenon made a breathless noise. “Is he shallow, then? Easy to reach into his guts?”

Sid shivered, rolling his ships slightly to probe Tristan’s depths. The man howled. “I think so, yes. _Nngh_ , yes. There it is. He should open easily, lord. I can’t wait to see him impaled on your cock.”

“Stretch him for me, Kurzidigish. Make him ready for your lord.”

Groaning loudly, Sid began thrusting with renewed urgency. Tristan’s screams echoed around the hall and were echoed by the voices of other slaves moaning their brainless pleasure. Sid inhaled and drifted into ecstasy at the sultry haze of sexual energy in the air.

At last, Tristan’s frantic screaming and struggling gave way to exhausted yelps of pain. Sid reached forward and yanked his head up by the hair.

“How is it?” he panted, and nipped Tristan’s ear. His hips didn’t stop their punishing rhythm, slapping wetly against Tristan’s ass. “Do you want to suck dick now?”

“Noooo… stop…”

He snaked his tail under Tristan’s stomach and squeezed his erection. “You’re still fucking hard, you liar. You like it.”

“I don’t!”

“But you want to cum.”

“Yes!” Tristan sobbed, breaking. “I wanna cum, please, yes. Stop fucking me, man, I’ll suck your cock.”

Sid thrust hard, punching into Tristan’s guts. The man screamed.

“ _Stop!_ I said it, I said I’ll suck you!”

“And you’ll do it on your own,” Sid demanded. “Don’t fight, don’t struggle. You’ll get on your knees and suck it the way you’d want a nice pretty girl to take your dick.”

Tristan grimaced horribly. “Fine,” he gritted out. “And then you’ll fucking let me cum?”

Sid forced him to look over at the throne. “Lord Anaxenon too.” He bit Tristan’s ear. “And don’t you _dare_ disrespect him.”

Tristan exhaled hard. His hands had clenched into fists at the sight of Anaxenon’s obscene masculine glory. “Fine,” he said. “Fine, I— fine. Fuck.” He endured a moment longer before twisting his head out of Sid’s grip, glaring at the floor. “I fucking hate you,” he rasped.

Quick as a striking snake, Sid sank fangs into his shoulder. Tristan yelped and bucked beneath him, clenching around his cock. Sid thrust a few times to drive his point home.

“Good,” he whispered. “Hate me. Hate yourself, you brainless piece of shit. You did this to yourself.”

He looked to Anaxenon. “Release him, lord. He’s ready to be a good slut.”

He felt Tristan shudder beneath him, around him. As the groping hands released and the bone rape-rack retreated into the fleshy floor, Sid gripped Tristan by the hips to keep his ass planted firmly on Sid’s pelvis.

“Kneel up,” Sid ordered. “Show the Lord Shaper your lovely body.”

With a groan, Tristan slowly knelt upright, still impaled on Sid’s cock. He flinched when Sid pulled him flush against his chest. His face was crimson with humiliation, stress, pain, arousal. He tried to cover his veiny, leaking erection.

“Show him,” Sid purred. “Show us that big dick.”

“Fuck you.” His hands dropped away, clenching into fists.

Sid thrust shallowly. Tristan’s cock jerked. The man bit his lip hard.

“You know I could make you love this,” Sid purred. “I could make you drool for cock. Beg for the taste of it.”

“I’d never,” Tristan snarled. “You can’t make me, I’m not a fag.”

“ _ **Lagneíā**_ ,” Sid whispered. “ _ **Lagneíā**_. _**Lagneíā**_.”

With every word, Tristan jerked violently against him, spasming with lust. Sid had to hold him tightly in place to prevent him from falling forward, jerking away as he thrust his raging erection into the air.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tristan demanded, almost in tears. “I don’t _want_ this! _Fuck!_ ”

“You don’t think I could make you want cock?”

“Just because I’m turned on doesn’t make me gay!” Tristan snarled. “You’ve got nothing to do with this, you fucking freak. You’re sick. This is sick. You can’t make me do shit.”

Sid smiled and whispered, lips brushing his earlobe, “ _ **Páthos**_.”

Tristan went violently rigid. His whole body shook. Sid watched his face contort with horror even as it flushed a deep red that crawled all the way down his chest. His mouth fell open as he trembled on the edge of a sudden desperate craving.

“You don’t want to suck cock?” Sid asked gently, nuzzling his neck. He saw Anaxenon lean forward on his throne.

It was a long, straining moment before Tristan managed to shake his head, just barely. “No,” he gasped. “No… I’m not… gay.”

Mocking a disappointed sigh, Sid pushed Tristan forward onto the floor. His cock squelched noisily out of the human’s ass. Tristan wheezed. His ass stuttered upward, instinctually seeking the cock it suddenly needed.

“Oh well,” Sid sighed. “Can’t make you like it, I guess. But you’ll still suck. Such a trial for someone so rigidly straight.”

“Fuck,” Tristan whispered, moving sluggishly on the floor. Clumsy and doped with lust, he struggled to push up onto his hands and knees. “I don’t… I don’t…”

“Turn,” Anaxenon said abruptly, rising to his feet. “Turn and face Kurzidigish. Beg him to let you be of use. Lie down, my lovely.”

Sid reclined on the floor, legs spread. His heart beat faster with uncertainty at what Anaxenon intended.

Tristan nearly broke at the sight of Sid’s erections: thick and veiny and gleaming with slick from their deep purple tips to the stretched-tight lips of his sheath. He stuffed his hand over his mouth and smothered a moan. His whole body trembled violently with the force of a shameful need for cock that he didn’t understand and could barely restrain. He probably thought he was hiding it well.

Sid was impressed. The strength of the man’s homophobia was truly astounding.

Anaxenon grabbed Tristan by the hair, dragging him closer to Sid. Tristan groaned and clenched his eyes shut. His leaping cock betrayed him.

“This is my favorite creature,” Anaxenon said. “Do you understand? The very best of all my incubi. He serves me so well. And now you will serve him.”

Tristan strangled a moan.

“Beg for his cocks. Beg to be allowed to touch him.”

Between clenched teeth, Tristan said, “Lemme suck your cock.” He even managed to sound strained about it.

“You may,” Sid said generously. “Good slut. Thank you, lord.”

Anaxenon released Tristan’s hair. The man almost fell upon Sid’s groin, his mouth open and groaning. Face crimson with humiliation, he nonetheless sloppily mouthed Sid’s shafts, licking and drooling, caught between desperate desire and deep-rooted revulsion.

One of Tristan’s hands slipped beneath his stomach. Anaxenon grabbed it and twisted it back sharply.

“Oh no,” Anaxenon rumbled. “For most creatures mine is a realm of pleasure— nearly all— but not you. Not until Kurzidigish grants you that right. And not while you have disrespected him so. For that you will _hurt_.”

Anaxenon struck Tristan across the ass with one enormous hand. He left a stinging red print and Tristan cried out.

Sid stared. He had never seen the Lord of Flesh inflict pain. Sexual torture, yes: pleasure so intense and overwhelming and _unending_ that a human’s mind shattered. The Halls of High Baxora were scattered with hundreds of fuck-broken slaves, brainless and drooling as they were slowly, over the decades, absorbed into the material of the demesne. But none of them were in pain.

“He seems untrained,” Anaxenon said.

“He is.” Sid fumbled for Tristan’s head and pushed a cock into his mouth, forcing the man to actually take it in. Tristan moaned and sucked hard, unable to control his unnatural hunger for cock when it was right there. “He’ll learn.”

Anaxenon knelt behind Tristan. He was easily twice the human’s size, with thighs the width of Tristan’s waist. His corkscrew-tipped pig’s cock squirmed between Tristan’s legs.

“Let us teach him.”

He grabbed hold of Tristan’s balls in one massive hand. Using them to keep Tristan’s hips up and in place, he began to spank Tristan hard.

Tristan’s squeals echoed around the hall. Sid hastily forced Tristan back down on his cock. The vibration and gargle of drool around his cock was heavenly. The sight of Anaxenon hitting Tristan was even better.

Swift, unrelenting, Anaxenon’s massive hand came down again and again. Tristan’s muscular ass quickly turned red. Redder. He began trying to jerk free but only yanked his own balls— and, with Sid holding his head down, every jolt forward made him gag on Sid’s cock.

“Gggah!” Frothy drool ran down his chin, down Sid’s shaft. Anaxenon struck him again and Tristan screamed. “ _Ggaaagh!_ Ggck! Gkkk— guh! Gkk! _Glck_!”

Sid realized Anaxenon’s molten purple gaze was on him. “Yes,” he moaned. “Like that, yes!”

“Glck, glck— GGGHHHH! Plsh— gck—”

“Down,” Sid gasped, pushing on his skull. “Down, down—”

Tristan screamed, his throat opened, and Sid’s cock popped in. Immediately Tristan was struggling, gagging violently around it. Anaxenon only hit him harder, driving him forward into Sid. Sid’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy at the clutch of hot convulsing throat around him.

He finally let Tristan up when he felt the sting of teeth. Not injured but viciously annoyed, he slapped Tristan brutally across the face. He let Tristan fall sideways onto the floor, coughing and wheezing.

Anaxenon still held his hips up by the balls. He palmed and squeezed one quivering red asscheek. “Has he learned yet?”

Anaxenon didn’t know how much pain was enough, Sid realized. How to torture without destroying.

“He’s learning,” Sid allowed. “He needs more practice. Right?”

“Hhh… yeah,” Tristan agreed, his eyes clenched shut. “I need… practice…”

All that and he still wasn’t gagging for it. Chuckling, Sid took a handful of his hair and pulled his head back into place. Tristan’s lustful moan sounded as a gurgle around his mouthful of cock.

“Tuck your chin,” Sid ordered, jamming Tristan’s head down. His cock strained against Tristan’s closed throat. “Say ‘ah’… open, open…”

“Ghh… gkh… _**kkh**!_”

“There!” Sid held his head down. Anaxenon squeezed Tristan’s balls more tightly. Sid was _achingly_ aware of his lord watching: sharp, unblinking. It was hard to focus through the pleasure of Tristan gagging around his shaft. “Stay there… Up!”

Sid yanked Tristan’s head up, violently triggering his gag reflex, and Tristan retched a string of slime that flooded over the cunt at the base of Sid’s cock. Tristan was red-faced and slobbery, eyes wet with tears. His cock was twitching desperately.

“And down again. Down— come on, open up that throat. Let me stretch that tight little hole. We’re doing this until you get it right. Up…”

“Hurgh!”

“And down. _Down_. Up. Down. Up…”

Throat-slime and his own slick puddled between Sid’s legs. After several minutes of forcible fucking, Tristan’s throat, if not his gag reflex, was battered into submission. Sid could push his cock in with a grunt and a squelch.

“That’s better,” Anaxenon rumbled. “Yes?”

“Yes. _Down_. Stay there this time. Let me feel you lick my cunt. Tongue out, you slut— _ohhh_ , Lord, his tongue is good! Lord, should I cum?”

“Not yet.”

Crying out, Sid pulled Tristan off his cock a final time. It took him several seconds to control his urges, not least of which was preventing Tristan from automatically deepthroating him again.

“Better,” Sid panted at last. “Tell me again, Tristan. What are you?”

“Slut,” Tristan gasped, unhesitating this time. Some piece of his resistance had been chipped away. Drool slid down his chin. “’M a… slut…”

“And do you want Kurzidigish’s cock?” asked Anaxenon. He cradled Tristan’s turgid balls gently now, massaging them almost absently. But there was no ignoring how it made Tristan’s hips rock with need.

Tristan’s lip trembled. The anguish on his face was _delicious_. “Yes,” he whimpered, entirely unable to understand _why_. “But I’m not… I’m not a fag… I’m _not_ …” He was almost sobbing.

“No,” Sid sighed, and petted his hair. “Just a cockslut. You hate it but you need it. Beg us for it.”

Tristan began to weep. “Please,” he choked, tears trickling down his face. “Please f-fuck me, I need… I need to cum, please let me cum, I need— your cock— I need—”

“Lord?” Sid asked. “Will you let him suck your cock now? That was the deal. Or we could deny him longer. We never agreed on how soon we had to let him suck.”

“I will have him,” Anaxenon said. He reclined and the fleshy floor surged up to meet him, cradling him in a comfortable lounge. “Come, slave.”

Tristan turned on his knees and crawled between Anaxenon’s massive thighs. He took the Lord Shaper’s lengthy shaft in both hands and lifted its corkscrew tip to his quivering lips.

Sid caught a fistful of his hair. “Worship,” he hissed.

Moaning, Tristan opened up. Anaxenon’s porcine cock flexed and pushed itself between his lips. Tristan gagged as it squirmed on his tongue, his revulsion clear in the curl of his lips, but his cock jumped so hard that it spattered pre-cum against his chiseled abs.

“Kurzidigish?”

“Yes lord?”

“Fuck him while he sucks me. Until he reaches my balls.”

Tristan gurgled.

“With both of your lovely cocks at once. Stretch him out for me.”

“Yes lord,” Sid gasped. “Oh, you are a lucky slut. Plugged on both ends. I know how you hated me fucking your ass, it must have been such torture for a straight man, but you really are lucky. People have sold their souls for such incredible pleasure.”

He ran his fingers over Tristan’s slick, swollen pucker. Tristan jerked his hips against them, instinctively begging for more.

Sid was still laughing when he buried his first cock to the hilt. A moan of pleasure was the only thing that choked off his delight.

Smiling, Anaxenon gripped Tristan’s head in both hands— each one easily big enough to span his entire skull— and genially forced Tristan six inches onto his cock. Tristan’s throat opened with a wet squelch and his head was impaled.

“Swallow,” he ordered, loosening the downward pressure but not his grip. “Take all of my cock. As you should.”

Sid wasn’t sure if it was Tristan’s efforts or the force of his own thrust that pushed Tristan an inch farther down the shaft. If it made Anaxenon’s face soften with pleasure, Sid didn’t care.

And for a long time Tristan rocked between the two of them, gagging and grunting in animal distress. Sid’s hips bounced off his ass with merciless regularity. Sid was sure he didn’t _help_ , given that Tristan seemed as desperate to shove back onto Sid’s cock as he was to go down on Anaxenon. More desperate, maybe, given that the cock up his ass was stroking his prostate— the only stimulation he was getting that might push him closer to orgasm. But it didn’t matter if Sid was helping or hindering; he’d been _ordered_ to fuck Tristan. That made it so much sweeter.

Red-faced and retching violently, Tristan finally yanked himself up Anaxenon’s shaft. He hacked his airways clear and let out a bawling howl. The terror of suffocation— the pain of having his throat so reamed—

“I can’t breathe,” he blubbered, snotty and wrecked. “Please, I’m sorry, ‘m suh sorry, I can’t, I can’t breathe, I cuh- _huhhhh_ … _uhhhh-hhuhhh_ …”

“You don’t need to breathe,” Anaxenon crooned, wiping tears from his face. He leaned down and kissed Tristan in a mockery of tenderness, his long demonic tongue slithering in and in and in. Tristan gagged. “You don’t need air. And this won’t be over until you get yourself down to kiss my balls. Now you have to start over. Try again.”

Tristan blubbered around the tip of Anaxenon’s cock. Sid thrust in to the hilt, forced his cock painfully through the sphincter to Tristan’s colon, and leaned helpfully on him until he had shoved Anaxenon’s cock into his throat once more.

“Almost halfway,” Anaxenon said idly, stroking Tristan’s hair. Tristan convulsed between them.

Unable to help himself, Sid reached forward and wrapped a hand around Tristan’s throat. It bulged beneath his palm, distended and tight. He could feel the muscles spasm and flex as Tristan gagged.

Tail curling, Sid squeezed Tristan’s throat and jacked it, stroked like it was a hot textured sheath around Anaxenon’s cock. Anaxenon groaned, his low-lidded purple eyes smouldering unblinkingly at Sid. Sweat prickled across Sid’s neck.

The extra stimulation made Tristan retch. Thin fluid gushed up around the cock and trickled from his stretched lips, down his chin and throat. Sid gripped his throat tighter, jerked faster, up and down over the bulge of Tristan’s bobbing Adam’s apple until Tristan retched so hard that he disgorged Anaxenon’s entire cock again. Mucusy slime bubbled from his nose and mouth. He wailed in distress.

“Try again,” Anaxenon said. “Let me help you.”

He thrust two huge fingers down Tristan’s throat. Sid held Tristan’s ass tightly against his hips and enjoyed the passive fuck of Tristan clenching and jolting as Anaxenon forced magic into the human’s flesh. In a minute Anaxenon was bulging Tristan’s throat with two fingertips, steadily fingerfucking his gag reflex into something managable.

“I do appreciate this sound,” Anaxenon said, of the wet gurgling and rhythmic _gluck-gluck-gluck_ of Tristan’s esophagus being reduced to a hole. “Now. Suck them clean.”

Tristan hardly needed to be told. Somewhere in the manhandling he had been reduced to a shivering wreck, his eyes glazed, his face dripping with sweat and drool. His ass worked steadily around Sid’s cock, a slight needy squeeze, as if he didn’t notice himself begging for more.

Sid pulled Tristan’s head back by the hair. “Do you want to suck his cock?”

“Ggghuh… _huhhh_ … _yeah_ …”

“What are you?”

“Slut… Lemme cum. _Please_ lemme cum, please, ghh…”

“Deepthroat his cock first. All of it. Prove you deserve even the smallest chance to orgasm, you worthless cockslut.”

“And ask my sweet incubus for his other cock inside you.”

“Please! Fuck me, I want— I want your cock— in my ass— I need…” Tristan sobbed. “I need to cum… Put it in me.”

“Put what in you?” asked Sid sweetly.

“Your cock!”

“It’s already in you.”

“The other one! Both! I want… both of them… in my ass. F-fuck my ass. Put them in me, fuck me hard… Oh my god. Oh my god, I can’t… I need… What’s _wrong_ with me?”

“Too much to fix,” Sid groaned, withdrawing far enough to press his other fat cockhead against Tristan’s asshole. The sight of that slick red pucker stretching to accept his second cock was almost as delicious as Tristan’s scream. “A straight homophobe who hates that he wants to choke on dick… Who knows why you are the way you are. You’ll just have to suffer.”

Anaxenon’s chuckle was low and dark and delighted. “You are a marvel beyond compare, Kurzidigish.”

Hot and tingling all over, Sid stared at Anaxenon. His hips kept moving, thrusting deeper and deeper into Tristan’s ass, but he remained helplessly transfixed by his lord’s eyes. Anaxenon did not break the stare as he unconcernedly guided Tristan’s head back to his cock and helped the sobbing man swallow it down.

 _Beautiful_. The hook in Sid’s heart pulled. His hips pushed hard, not to fuck Tristan but to obey the gravitational pull towards Anaxenon.

Breathless, trembling, Sid fucked Tristan with as little care as he had ever felt for a mortal. It would have been like scratching an itch— instinctive and meaningless— save for the fact that Anaxenon was watching. Hungering. Sid was meant to entertain him, please him— offer him tribute…

“Is he good, lord?”

“ _Oh_. Yes. Oh, there… that’s the deepest yet… keep choking on it, slave. Down you go.”

“Down,” Sid growled, battering Tristan forward with his hips. The human gurgled and jolted farther down Anaxenon’s shaft, his eyes rolling back. Anaxenon groaned. “Yes, lord… yes…”

Tristan tied them together, his body a spasming sleeve for their pleasure. If only Sid could reach Anaxenon through Tristan’s flesh. Fuck him… impale him all the way through his guts, get deeper and deeper until their cocks met within, fucking and rubbing together in the sheath of the mortal’s body. Anaxenon might change his own cock, even, the better to touch Sid’s— make it a prehensile corkscrew, a tentacle, squeezing and stroking Sid off...

“Lord!” he gasped, shuddering hard. “Oh, lord, I need to cum…” He grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of Tristan’s head and shoved down, snarling, “Swallow it, you useless slut… show me what a cunt your throat is.”

One hand in Tristan’s hair and one gripping beneath his jaw, around his bulging throat, Sid ruthlessly forced Tristan’s head down. And down. Impaling him inch by inch on the ever-widening shaft of Anaxenon’s massive, bestial cock until finally Tristan’s frothy lips squelched against the demon lord’s balls.

Sid hissed in savage victory. Tristan spasmed beneath him, scarcely able to move— perhaps paralyzed by the spasms of his diaphragm from the cock forced through his esophageal sphincter, into his stomach. There wasn’t even _emotion_ in his scarlet face, with its eyes rolled sightlessly back and jaw distended wide; there was just suffering. And the knowledge that, trapped inside his skull, Tristan was screaming without end.

A huge hand gripped Sid’s chin and lifted. He shuddered at the look on Anaxenon’s face: the direct, piercing intensity of his eyes from _so near_. Anaxenon leaned forward so that he nearly brushed Sid’s nose— the squelch of his cock in Tristan’s mouth ignored by them both— and held Sid’s chin tipped up so that Sid couldn’t hide the blaze of embarrassment and adoration that surely glowed in his face.

“Cum in him, Kurzidigish. Slick him up for me to fuck.”

The hook in Sid’s heart was more like a fist this time. Arousal gripped every nerve in his body and _seared_ , white-hot, instantaneously reducing Sid to a single shrieking flare of orgasmic ecstasy. He was only held in place by Anaxenon’s grip on his jaw as he screamed, thrust, pumped gush after gush of seed into Tristan’s guts, spilled his soul through his cock. The ecstasy went on _forever_.

At last, as Sid was starting to feel the electrified terror that his mind was pulling apart at the edges, the intensity began to fade. He was left sobbing and trembling, light-headed, able to perceive his body again: the trickle of slick down his inner thighs from an untouched cunt orgasm, the weak twitching of his cocks still ejaculating inside Tristan.

Sid wiped his face and licked a tear from his lips. “ _Oh_. That was a good one,” he said hoarsely. “Thank you, lord. Thank you so much.”

Anaxenon kissed him gently, luxuriously, his long tongue fucking Sid’s mouth until it too felt pleasantly cunted and post-orgasmic. “Of course,” he murmured. “I do love to see you enjoying yourself.”

Moaning, Sid withdrew from Tristan. Lax and twitching, his cocks re-sheathed themselves, leaving only a dripping softness between his legs.

Anaxenon gasped, one hand going to Tristan’s head. Between them, Tristan had given some spasm that squeezed his cock, upon which the mortal was still skewered.

“Pull him off.”

Delighted, Sid did so. With his hand still around Tristan’s throat, he could feel every choke and spasm as Anaxenon’s cock slid up Tristan’s esophagus, over his gag reflex, almost endlessly long. At the end his cockhead appeared like a magic trick— transformed at some point to be human-shaped now, mushroomed and fat enough to pop forcibly out of Tristan’s throat like a cork— and Tristan retched over it, vomiting up a frothy wave of slime and pre-cum over it like a final complimentary salutation.

Anaxenon groaned, his cock twitching and pulsing out another bead of pre-cum. He cradled his own balls as if soothing the load of seed he had yet to deliver.

“Very good,” he said, slightly breathless. Sid wasn’t sure who he was talking to. “I believe it’s time I fuck this tribute of mine.”

“ _Pleeeeease_ ,” Tristan gurgled, nearly incoherent. He was a trembling, sloppy mess. “Please… lemme… cum. Lemme… _gggh_ … I need…”

Sid pushed three fingers into Tristan’s slick hole and the mortal shoved onto them immediately, spine arching to lift his ass. “Need what?”

“ _Cock_ ,” Tristan sobbed. “Please, pleeease, I need, I gotta… hhhgh…”

Anaxenon laughed, loud and delighted. He patted Tristan’s head as if he were a pet who had finally done the trick right. Sid flushed with pleasure that his tribute had done so well.

Anaxenon moved to his throne and reclined on it, stretching out with a groan. He jacked his slime-slicked cock and stood it upright. Waiting.

Sid had only to help Tristan stand despite his wobbling knees: the man was trying to get to Anaxenon all on his own. His pupils were blown, his eyes empty; his dripping cock pointed toward Anaxenon like a guide. Despite the pain, despite the terror, the humiliation and soul-deep revulsion, he had finally surrendered to his need for cock. Sid’s venom filled him with lust and the hypnotic triggers in his brain told him that the only thing that could fulfill him properly was cock.

In front of Anaxenon, Sid spun Tristan around, reached under his thighs and picked him up. The mortal was taller and far more muscular, but weighed no more than a soul: something an incubus could easily snatch up. Gasping, Tristan wrapped his arms around Sid’s neck and held on, deliriously trying to grind his cock against Sid’s stomach. He wept against Sid’s neck.

“ _Please_ … I need… I gotta cum... Sid, _please_ …”

Carrying him forward to Anaxenon, Sid kissed Tristan’s neck, grazed it with his fangs, licked the sweat-salty sinew with his forked tongue. He knew of what a pretty picture they made: the incubus triumphant, and the quivering tribute being offered up hole-first, already wet and leaking seed. “You’ll get it, never fear. I promised you all the sex you could handle. And then more.”

“No, please… I can’t… _God_ , Sid, _please_! I can’t— I just want—”

Sid paused. “What’s that?”

Tristan sobbed. His rock-hard cock twitched against Sid’s abs. “I shouldn’t _want_ this. _What’s wrong with me_?”

Anaxenon’s big hands gripped and spread Tristan’s asscheeks, exposing his swollen pucker. A gob of Sid’s cum drooled onto the head of Anaxenon’s cock.

“You know what you are,” Sid breathed in his ear. He eased Tristan closer, holding him perfectly in position.

“ _Slut_ ,” Tristan sobbed. “Not a f-fag… ‘m a slut, I need to cum, I want your cock, _please_.”

Groaning in perfect united arousal, Sid and Anaxenon lowered Tristan onto Anaxenon’s erection. After a moment of resistance the fat cockhead squelched in, splitting Tristan wider than he’d ever been. Tristan screamed. And slowly, slowly, Sid let him slide down, impaled inch by inch on the demon king’s massive cock.

“ _OH MY GOD! FUCK! IT’S TOO BIG! PLEASE!_ ”

Anaxenon loudly groaned. Hands on Tristan’s hips, he lifted momentarily, then pushed down deeper— and surpassed the resistance inside Tristan’s guts. His cockhead was forced through Tristan’s second sphincter, past the bend of his colon.

“ _ **AAAHHHHH!**_ ”

“ _Tight_ ,” he hissed, head craning back in bliss. “Kurzidigish… give me more…”

Sid let Tristan slide down another few inches, slow and exquisite. The mortal writhed in his arms, caught between agony and the hypnotic desperation for cock, any cock, more cock than he could take. Tristan’s own weight forced him down; his straining push to eject Anaxenon’s cock only opened his hole wider to take more.

“AAAAHHH! AHH! FUCK! _AUUUGHH!_ ”

The bulge of Anaxenon’s cockhead visibly pushed out on the left side of Tristan’s muscular abdomen as it slid higher up his descending colon. Four inches from the rib cage… then two… At the hollow beneath Tristan’s heaving ribs, Anaxenon’s cock met resistance and bulged _outward_ , seeking further passage it could not get. Tristan screamed.

“ _Damnation_ ,” Anaxenon rasped, rocking his hips. “Not bad, mortal. You’ve taken more than half.”

“Lovely,” sighed Sid. He wrapped his tail around the remaining length of Anaxenon’s cock and stroked it. He couldn’t see, but Tristan’s hole must be stretched gorgeously around a girth now as thick as his forearm.

There was a ripple beneath Tristan’s bulging skin. The cock buried within him changed: not in girth or length, but in flexibility. Sid wasn’t sure what creature Anaxenon had borrowed from now, if not pure imagination, but either way the bulge of his cock could now bend around the curve of Tristan’s colon and punch through— and when Sid lifted Tristan back up and dropped him six inches, _hard_ , it did.

“ _AHHHHHH! AHHHHHH! **AGHHHHH!!!**_ ”

Groaning in unison with Anaxenon, Sid slowly lowered Tristan down the final thick inches of Anaxenon’s cock, both of them in bliss for their own reasons. Anaxenon, for the exquisite tightness of Tristan’s hole stretched around the base of his monstrous cock, its slick crimson lips finally kissing his balls— Sid for the raw agony and terror that flooded from Tristan, the tears streaming down his face and the anguish of his screams.

Sid let Tristan’s legs come down, leaving the human straddling Anaxenon’s spread thighs with his toes trembling above the floor. He was impaled by his own weight and utterly lacking leverage to lift himself. Tristan’s immediate, instinctive strain to get up managed only to raise him an inch before his thighs gave out, accomplishing no more than a shallow stroke of Anaxenon’s cock in his guts. Anaxenon groaned in appreciation.

“Put your hands here, lovely.” Anaxenon placed Tristan’s palms on his own muscular stomach. Tristan kept them there, leaning back to do so, because it was the only support he had. Sweating and trembling violently, he held as still as possible, paralysed by the intensity of the massive organ impaling his insides.

“Take it out,” Tristan whispered, tears trickling down his face. “Oh god— please—”

“Don’t you want to cum?”

“ _Yes_. But I can’t— it hurts— it’s too much, please, take it out!”

“You need this,” Sid said gently. “You love how much cock is in you.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tristan groaned in anguish, and began to sob again as Anaxenon’s prehensile cock writhed visibly beneath his skin. “Fuck… you’re killing me… you’re killing me… _pleeeeeease_ …”

“Soon this will be easier on you,” Anaxenon crooned, fitting his massive hands around Tristan’s muscular waist. He stroked the bulge of his own cock, then squeezed Tristan around it and genially ignored the wail. “I’ll fix all that unnecessary mess inside you and remake you for my cock. Soon it will fit all the way in and slide right through, no matter which end you take it in. And you’ll love the way it feels. Now… Kurzidigish?”

“Yes lord?”

“Let’s make him cum. He deserves it. Don’t you, _**pet**_?”

At the trigger, the last light of selfhood was wiped from Tristan’s eyes, leaving only a blank and drooling lust, an empty slavish craving for anything and everything Anaxenon would give him. But before that final syllable— before Tristan ceased to be himself— Sid saw in his face the broken relief that he would finally get to cum. The crushing humiliation that he truly was as much of a cockslut as he had feared.

Finally, Anaxenon could fuck his new slave properly. Fangs bared in delight, he gripped Tristan around the waist and began to bounce him up and down in quick, businesslike strokes.

“ _Oh!_ ” Tristan’s eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open. The bulge of Anaxenon’s cock pistoned visibly through Tristan’s guts. Tristan’s straining erection slapped his belly. “ _Oh oh oh oh **oh**_ —”

Desperate to participate, even if his lord’s pleasure was being taken care of by the tribute Sid had offered, Sid went to his knees in front of the throne. He captured Tristan’s cock in his mouth and sucked hard, head bobbing to keep up with the movement of Tristan’s body.

“That’s right,” Anaxenon grunted, looking down at Sid. “Make him cum. Show him what an excellent cocksucker you are.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tristan moaned, brainless and broken, “yes yes yes yes, fuck, please, yes, god—”

“Pray to _me_.”

“Yes! Lord! Fuck, thank you— thank— fuck— _ow_ , fuck, hurts— yes— yes, yes, yes—”

There was nothing real left in Tristan’s head, no trace of the malicious, greedy bigot Sid had longed to break; he was a drooling slave that would have thanked Anaxenon for fucking him to death, had death still been a possibility. But there was a kind of victory in this too: watching Tristan yelp in delight at being used like a toy, his cock rock-hard in Sid’s mouth even as he was brutalized.

Watching Anaxenon grunt and huff as he pounded Tristan on his cock, a tight squirming sheath for him to ream out. His purple eyes lidded and fluttering… his toes curling against Sid’s knee… his sleek muscular body gleaming in the red light…

Eyes fixed on Anaxenon, Sid suckled on Tristan’s dripping cock as if he could make his lord feel it. The trickle of pre-cum seemed endless; the mortal’s balls were tight and swollen, horribly overstimulated from the amount of venom Sid had pumped into him. Then Anaxenon gave a particularly deep thrust, Tristan screamed, and his cock released a jet of cum.

The psychic wave of Tristan’s orgasm hit Sid hard, making his tail and toes curl. And Anaxenon was letting him have it, letting him feed— Anaxenon was watching Sid shudder and drink it all down…

For a long while Anaxenon held Tristan in place, the mortal convulsing through wave after wave of long-delayed orgasm, attempting to writhe and thrust his hips while impaled balls-deep on a cock so long it impaired his breathing. Sid gulped as hard as he could, cheeks hollow; he pushed down and took Tristan’s cock to the base, feeling it pulse in his throat as it pumped seed into his stomach. He felt voracious, licentious. He felt _satisfied_ and at peace.

Throat-deep on Tristan’s cock and lost in the daze of satiation, Sid caught himself making doe eyes up at Anaxenon. It was impossible to stop, to hide. He was soft and trembling and blissed at his lord’s feet.

“There you are,” Anaxenon murmured, stroking beneath Sid’s chin. “Drink your fill, lovely. Such wonderful tribute you’ve brought.”

His clawed thumb traced the curve of Sid’s cheek. “Let’s give you some more.”

And he began to rock his hips again, now moving shallow and steady.

Sid only caught the first ripple of transformation because Tristan cried out and arched. Anaxenon took Sid’s hand and placed it on Tristan’s lower belly. Beneath the taut flesh was a faint bulge— one that grew larger and harder until Tristan howled again. Now Sid could see it rocking gently in Tristan’s gut. The knot at the base of Anaxenon’s cock must have been tremendous to bulge like that… and if Sid knew anything about Anaxenon, it was shaped and ridged just _so_ to grind mercilessly on Tristan’s prostate.

Tristan screamed and convulsed so hard that Sid had to pin his thighs down and prevent him from curling up. In Sid’s mouth there was another hot jet of cum. Tristan’s cock jerked violently; his mouth gurgled incoherent noise.

“ _Pleash_ ,” Sid begged, his mouth stuffed full. “Pleash, lor, _yesh_.”

Chuckling, Anaxenon held Tristan down and continued to rock. Tristan’s guts did the work of milking Anaxenon’s shaft; his desperate squirming made him clench and squeeze until Anaxenon groaned.

“That’s it,” Anaxenon growled, his eyes closed in concentration, “that’s right… like that…”

“Please,” the human whimpered, trembling from overstimulation, “please… fuuuck… _nnngh_ —!”

Another orgasm gripped him and the trickle of cum peaked into a squirt. Every muscle in Tristan’s body clenched with the force of his pleasure. The spasm wrung him out and left him moaning deliriously, ecstatic and anguished.

Anaxenon had flung his head back at the tight squeeze. His claws dug into Tristan’s flesh; he shoved the human down and rocked harder into him, his movements growing harsh. “Come on,” he growled. “Come on, pet… _more_ …”

Desperate to help, Sid reached between Anaxenon’s legs and cupped his swollen balls, each one large enough to take up a whole hand. He sucked Tristan’s cock— all he could do to make the human writhe— and played with Anaxenon’s balls, stroking and rolling their glorious weight.

That was all it took: within seconds Anaxenon’s testicles contracted hard as he finally orgasmed. For a moment Anaxenon’s whole body flexed into a sublime tableau: the demon king ecstatic, head flung back, hips lifted with a human seated astride them, impaled on his rampant cock. Tristan cried out as the cock in his guts strained, but Sid had only ears for Anaxenon’s shout of relief. The unconscious spill of Anaxenon’s power swept out, flooding the entirety of High Baxora with a shockwave of red pleasure.

Distracted by his cunt spasming through involuntary orgasm, Sid gurgled on Tristan’s fourth ejaculation. Most of it dribbled down his chin. His own cum trickled out of his sheath, in which his soft, spent cocks had squirted weakly. And all around the High Halls, slaves were howling and quaking through their own climaxes, swamping Sid with sexual energy.

By all the lower gods, he’d forgotten how extraordinary Anaxenon’s pleasure was. How divine.

Anaxenon slumped back, eyes closed, blissfully slack except for how he gripped Tristan’s hips, rocking and grinding just slightly. His massive thighs trembled.

Sid moaned around Tristan’s cock. In his palms, Anaxenon’s balls throbbed rhythmically, pumping jet after jet of cum into Tristan. He massaged them, desperate to milk out every drop of seed and pleasure from his lord. Though Anaxenon’s orgasm had peaked, he was _still cumming_ : within Tristan’s belly was a distinct bulge of cock kicking rhythmically as it ejaculated.

Tristan’s cries peaked in distress as his belly began to develop a pronounced swell. Slowly, slowly, his guts were being pumped full, bloated with cum.

“Please…” he whimpered, agonized and horrified. “Please, take it out… take it out, please…”

Sid slurped off Tristan’s cock and buried his face beneath the mortal’s balls. His long, forked tongue flickered out to lick what he could reach of Tristan’s asshole, which was stretched around the girth of Anaxenon’s cock. It bulged from the massive knot within— the knot that locked Tristan in place and sealed in every drop of cum, no matter how he squirmed and strained for release.

Anaxenon groaned and his balls pulsed again.

As the bloating grew, Tristan writhed and mewled in increasing anguish, but he was too weak to really struggle, let alone escape. His arms trembled and he finally collapsed back against Anaxenon, though the cock buried in his guts held his spine up in an obscene arch. It only highlighted the curve of his now enormously distended belly.

“Kurzidigish.” Anaxenon sounded exhausted, luxuriant. “Come here.”

Licking his face clean, Sid crawled shakily into Anaxenon’s lap. There was plenty of room on his thighs to share with Tristan.

Anaxenon’s hand cupped Sid’s head and pulled him close, nestling in over the crook of Tristan’s shoulder. Sid’s mouth was already open for Anaxenon to claim. Ignoring the human sandwiched between them, they kissed languorously, their prehensile tongues playing out a final indulgent fuck. Sid nearly glowed at the tenderness and affection he was receiving— _he_. From _Anaxenon_.

 _He likes me!_ Sid wanted to believe it. Not _he likes my offering_. Not _he liked the sex_.

Because Anaxenon had… had done this Sid’s way. Had offered Tristan _back to Sid_. That was new. That was… special. Wasn’t it?

“Thank you, lord,” Sid murmured demurely, eyes lowered, when they finally parted. “You do me such honor. You indulge me so.”

Anaxenon chuckled. “I don’t mind indulging my favorite incubus. You’re always a delight, Kurzidigish.”

Tristan was whimpering something incoherent in Sid’s ear. Annoyed, Sid stuffed three fingers in the human’s mouth. “Shhhh-sh-sh. Quiet now.”

Tristan gurgled and squirmed, his swollen-tight belly and still-hard cock rubbing against Sid. Sid licked away a tear trickling down Tristan’s cheek, pushed his fingertips deeper into the soft clutch of Tristan’s throat and pressed down on that wriggling tongue. “What have you got to complain about? You’re stuffed full of cock. Feel it? _**Doûlos**_. _Shh_.”

Tristan’s eyes rolled back. Sid petted his tongue indifferently and looked back to Anaxenon, refocusing. Fortunately, a fond smile was playing around Anaxenon’s mouth.

“I hope you enjoy him, lord. I— I’m so honored you let me use him, but really, he was for you.”

“Yes. Yes, my pretty one. This is a good one.” There was some exquisitely hesitant note in his voice. “I love it.”

Sid flushed hot all over. His toes curled involuntarily; his chest squeezed. “My lord,” was all he could choke out. He pressed his forehead to Anaxenon’s shoulder.

Anaxenon petted him in contented silence for a moment. The organic throne beneath them relaxed, reclining them into an even more indolent lounge. Sid curled closer on top of Tristan (whimpering, twitching) and purred. He wished the mortal’s body was gone from between them. He wished he was the one knotted tightly on Anaxenon’s cock.

“We’ll have to play with this pet again,” Anaxenon murmured. “Together. Would you like that?”

“ _Yes_. I— yes, lord. Please.”

“Re-set him, then.”

“What?”

Anaxenon stiffened minutely. “So we can do this again. Yes?”

Sid sat bolt upright. Forgetting all deference, he looked directly at Anaxenon’s face. He found his lord staring back with the same uncertainty, the same raw want.

Sid jammed his palm against Tristan’s forehead. “ _ **Forget**_. _**Sleep**_. Shut _up_.”

The human finally went slack, his body draped limply over Anaxenon. Only his cock still had animation, standing erect and twitching over his swollen belly.

“Yes,” Sid said faintly, oh so carefully, staring down into Anaxenon’s wide purple eyes. “Yes, lord. I would… love that.”

Anaxenon’s face relaxed. His massive palm caught the back of Sid’s head and pulled him closer once more, a rough possessive caress. Sid nuzzled extravagantly into his hand, as adored and adoring as he ever had been. He could smell his own aura leaking passion, taste the shimmer of raw power that Anaxenon exuded. All of High Baxora throbbed around them, pulsing with the Lord Shaper’s gratification.

“Very good, Kurzidigish. My loveliest creature. You do know what I like best.”


End file.
